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WINNOWING 



DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 



BY 



MRS. LULU T. REESE 



COPYRIGHTED 

MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE 

1911 









S>G!.D 23471 



WINNOWING 

DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 



BY 

MRS. LULU T. REESE 



CHARACTERS. 
James K. Polk Nicholas. Tom Gilroy. 

Josiah Nicholas. Rose Gilroy, wife of Tom. 

Betsy Nicholas, wife of Josiah. Carroll Arnold. 

Malinda Nicholas, daughter of Josiah. Captain Thornton. 
Amanda, wife of James. Blanche Van Dyke. 

Lucile, daughter of James. Robert, negro butler. 

Percy Carroll 

TIME: 1870 TO THE PRESENT. 



ACT I. 

Scene 1. (A rude log structure located in the rural district of East 
Tennessee. In the open passage between the two rooms are seated 
Josiah Nicholas and his wife, Betsy; Josiah in a split-bottom chair 
tilted against the wall, smoking a cob pipe, which is his constant com- 
panion. Betsy is busily knitting.) 

Josiah. "Do you know, Betsy, whur thet boy gits them lazy, good- 
fur-nothin' ways uf his'n is sumpin I don't onderstand. He never will larri 
to plow, an' he won't so much as drap the corn right. He's been gone fur 
more'n a haf hour fur that bucket er water, an' when he gits here it 
won't be more'n haf full. I did want to make a respectable farmer out'en 
Jeems K. Polk, but it jist looks like it ain't no use tryin'; he ain't got it 
in him, an' thet's all thur's to it." 

Betsy. "Well, Josiah, I sumtimes thinks you ain't got 'nough patience 
with Jeems K. Polk." 

Josiah. "Patience (looking over his spectacles). Patience! Now, 
that beats me. Why, I've been thet patient with thet boy, I've lost my 
own self-respect lots uf times. I says to myself over an'' agin: 'Josiah 
Nicholas, you're a natural-born fool 'bout thet boy. Why don't you take 
a strop an' war him out, 'sted'er callin' him out 7 en bed ever mornin' thet 
the good Lord sends, an' then a-tellin' an' a-showin' him the same thing 
over ever blessed day, a-hopin' ever time he'll do better, an' more keerful- 
like, the same thing he done so neglectful the day afore.' The idea you 
sirgestin' more patience. The thing he needs, in my opinion, is more 
onpatience." (Josiah looks indignant and puffs vigorously on his cob 
pipe.) 

Betsy. "I ain't a-blamin' you for Jeems K. Polk's shiftless ways, 
Josiah. You ain't no more to blame fur 'em then I is. But thur may be 
more in him then we think fur. The farm ain't suiten' to his natur' an' 



he mought do better sumwliur else, a-workin' at sumfin more fitten to 
him." 

Josiah. "What! you got thet notion in your head, too? Lettin' him 
go way frum home to new parts?" 

Betsy. "Now, let me git through afore you begin to argerfy. It's 
just as hard an' harder on me to give him up as it is on you. He's all 
the boy we've got, an' we're gittin' old. You an' me didn't begin life as 
soon as sum folks, an' both them chillun is chillun uf our old age. An' 
thet's one reason we're so oncommon foolish 'bout 'm. I know jist how 
hard we've worked an' stinted to git this land paid fur, a-hopin' all the 
time to make a good farmer out'en Jeems K. Polk. But seein' he ain't 
a-takin' to our way o* thinkin' 'bout hisself, s'possen we try his'n an' let 
him see sumpin ' uf the world ? Tliur ain't no tellin', he mought be cut 
out fur sumpin great. I hev hearn that Andy Jackson an' Aby Lincoln 
both uv 'em wus jist as onlikely boys as he is." 

Josiah. "Well,- here he comes now, santerin' 'long, swingin' thet 
bucket an' chawin' them straws, with that onsatisfied, hankerin' look on 
his face." (Calling to James, who is on the outside) : "Jeems K. Polk, 
why don't you come on here with thet bucket o' water? I'm dryer'n a 
powder horn, an' you air jist a-foolin' 'long chawin' straws like a ox." 

James (from the outside). "I'm a-comin', pa. I didn't know you 
wus in a hurry." (Enter James, a talk awkward, well-built young boy, 
in whose expression there is more than average intellect. In his manner 
a restlessness born of discontent. He places the bucket of water on a 
side shelf.) 

Josiah. "I reckon if I wus in a hurry I'd hev to go an' fetch it 
myself." 

James. "Say, Pa, I've jist been wonderin' why you didn't build this 
house down by the spring anyhow, then 'sted o' totin' water fur a quarter 
o' mile, you could jist step out an' hev it handy." 

Josiah. "Thet's jist like you, Jeems K. Polk. You air alius' wantin' 
things handy 'stid 'er workin' fur 'em. I'd like to know how we could 
see the folks a-goin' 'long the big road if we'd a-put the house down by 
the spring, an' your Ma an' me thought we'd ruther hev sum society 
then so much convenience. Now, you'd never thought uv that till it wus 
too late." (After drinking from the old-fashioned gourd to his satisfac- 
tion, the old man dries his mouth on his blue cotton sleeve, relights his 
pipe and resumes his seat. James has seated himself on the edge of the 
floor of the passage, with his long legs, encased in their homespun cotton 
trousers, dangling in a most ungainly fashion from side to side. All the 
while Betsy continues knitting.) 

James. "Say, Pa, what you got to say 'bout lettin' me go to West- 
morelan' to work in the company's big store?" 

Josiah. "Well, Jeems K. Polk, we've been a-talkin', your Ma an' me, 
'bout lettin' you hev your way, an' we've 'bout made up our minds to let 
you go an' look 'bout an' see if you reckon if you can do better then a- 
farmin'. I'll be bound you'll git 'nough an' be powerful glad to git back. 
A little homesickness is sumtimes good fur a fellow. I've knowd 'em to 
come home clean beat out by it." 

Betsy. "Hush, here comes Lindy. You'll hev to break it to her 
gentle, fur she's plum set agin it." 

(Enter Malinda, a pretty country girl. In her hand she has a bucket 
of fresh gathered potatoes, which she places on the floor, taking hor seat 
in a chair.) 

Malinda. "Say, Pa, when I went out to dig them potatoes I found 
the old brindle cow in the garden jist raisin' Cain. Sum of you'ns bed lef 
the gate open, an' she tuck it fur a invite to tar up things in general." 

2 — Winnovnng 



Betsy (looking up frora her knitting). "Jeems K. Polk, I'll be 
bound you lef that gate open when I sent you to git them cabbages." 

Malinda. "I reckon he did; he alius does. He's jist 'bout as fit'n 
fur farmin' as that old brindle herself." (She begins peeling the potatoes 
with much energy.) , 

Betsy. "Lindy, don't be too hard on Jeems K. Polk; you mought be 
sorry some day." 

Malinda. "La, Ma, you talks like Jeems K. had a notion of dying." 

Josiah (removing his pipe). "Lindy, you ain't hearn, has you, as 
how Jeems K. Polk were goin' away?" 

Malinda (looking up in astonishment). "Goin' whur?" 

Josiah. "To Westmorelan'." 

Malinda. "WhUt fur?" 

Josiah (with much sadness in his voice). "Your Ma and me has at 
last come round to his way uf lookin' at things. An' now he's goin'." 

Malinda (turning to James). "Jeems K., air you in earnest? I 
thought you wus jist a-talking to plague me when you kep on say in' so 
much 'bout goin' away. I didn't think you'd hev the heart to do it. 
Who's goin' to help Pa an' him a-gettin' old? Who's goin' to tote the 
wood an' water, an' all sich? You wouldn't a got no sich notion in your 
head if you hadn't 'a kep on a-goin' over to Westmorelan' so much lately 
with that Billy Jones, sayin' you wus larnin' to trade. You wus jist 
a-hangin' 'round with them fellows, what thinks they knows so much, jist 
'cause they war' store-bought clothes an' biled shirts ever' day in the week. 
I tole Pa all the time it were a-spiling you — an' now it's done come out." 

James. "Lindy, I'm mosten a man; I'm seventeen year old." 

Malinda (impatiently). "You ain't but one year older'n me." 

James. "Shucks, you're a gal, an' gals don't count." 

Malinda. "I reckon they counts fur 'nough to do more work 'round 
this here place than you does." 

James. "I want to make sumpin out'n myself. I hearn one uf the 
biggest men in Westmorelan' tellin' as how he come to town not knowin 
nothin', an' he jist went to work an' made a man out'n hisself. I'm goin' 
to do jist like that big man said he done. I'm going to work in the day- 
time an' git somebody to larn me at night." 

Malinda (sarcastically)- "I'd like to know how you air going to 
live without sleepin'." 

James. "Shucks, Lindy, folks don't go to bed afore dark in town." 

Malixda. "No, an' they don't git up in the mornin', nuther. When 
them city folks wus a-campin' up there in the hollow, an' I took 'em butter 
an' milk long 'bout seven o'clock, they wus jist a-gittin' up, an talkin' 
'bout it bein' early, when I'd done a good day's work afore goin'. You'll 
jist drap into them lazy, good-fur-nuthin' ways, fur you ain't none too 
fond uf Avork nohow." (Peels potatoes with increased energy.) 

James. "I reckon I kin hold my own. Billy Jones says I'm a natural- 
born trader, an' kin beat him any day, an' Pa knows I got more fur them 
cows an' pigs then he thought fur." 

Malinda. "I'd like to know what you air countin' on doin' when you 
git to Westmorelan'." 

James. "Dr. Watson says he'll git me a job in the company's big store, 
an' says I kin work my way up." 

Malinda (with contempt). "Or down." 

Josiah. "Tut, tut, Lindy. Jeems K. Polk has been a good son an' 
brother 'ceptin' he ain't cut out fur a farmer. An' likely it ain't no fault uf 
his'n. He's goin' away now an' we'll miss him, you an' your Ma an' me. 
But if he makes a man out'n hisself we'll be proud an' glad he went. But, 

Winnowing — 3 



Jeems K. Polk, if you come home to us in disgrace an' shame you'll break 
our hearts." 

James (with pride) . "Pa, I mean to come back some day a rich man." 

Betsy. "Jeems K. Polk, my boy, don't set your heart too much on 
gittin' rich. Be a great man if you kin, but whatever you do be a good'n. 
Don't never do nothin' thet you'd be 'shamed fur your Pa an' Lindy an' 
me to know 'bout. Don't never try to git the best uf nobody in a trade. Do 
jist what's squar an' hones', an' if you can't git rich bein' fa'r an' hones', 
jist be satisfied bein' pore but hones'." 

Josiah. "An, Jeems K. Polk, jist alius remember what the preacher 
tole us 'bout them circus people bein' the sorcerers, in the Bible, an' the 
audiences bein' the idolaters, what avus burned in a lake uf fire an' brim- 
stone. An' you stay 'way frum circurses an' all sich places. An' don't you 
go runnin' off after none of them Sasserresses. An' don't you go an' git 
mixed up with none of them adulterers; jist remember thur's a lake uf 
fire an' brimstone awaitin' fur all sich." 

James. "Pa, don't you know the powerfulest thing in the world is 
money? Why, them rich men over there in Westmorelan' does things whut 
we'ns would be slapped in jail for. They ain't skeered uf the law. Why, 
the jedge hissef is skeered uf them. Why, I hearn one uf the fellows tellin' 
as how when one uf them big rich men wanted somethin' done, he jist got 
on the train an' went an' tole the Gov'nor hissef what to do. An' the 
Gov'nor jist done it. An' one uf 'em went to Washin'ton an' tole the Prisi- 
dent who to p'int postmaster, an' the Prisident he p'inted him." 

Malinda. "Well, if you ain't got no more sense then to believe all 
thet, you'd better stay to home, fur sho' as you're born if you air thet 
green when you gits to town the eows'll eat you up." 

James. "It's you what's green not to know whut money does fur 
folks. I've seen 'nough to know thet money's the all-powerfulest thing in 
the world." 

Betsy. "Jeems K. Polk, the Bible says it's harder fur a rich man to 
git to heaven then it is fur a camel to git through the eye uf a needle. 
Jedgin' from thet there won't be many rich folks up there." 

Malinda. "I reckon Jeems K. thinks all they's got to do is to walk 
up an' tell God A'mighty thet they's got money, an' God A'mighty will jist 
take off His hat to 'em." 

Betsy. "Lindy, thur ain't no use uf all thet sputyfyin'. We'ns lied 
better go put on dinner." (Polling up her knitting.) 

Malinda. "All right, Ma; these potatoes is ready." (Taking up the 
bucket. Exit Malinda and Betsy.) 

Josiah ( knocking the ashes out of his pipe ) . "Well, I reckon I'll go 
and feed the criters." Exit Josiah. 

James. "They don't know nothin' 'bout life 'cept farmin'. I know 
you can't be nothin' an' nobody if you ain't got money. An' I'm going to 
make money,, an' I'm goin' to be sumpin." 



4 — Winnowing 



ACT II. 

Thirty Years Later. Present Time. 

Scene 1. (A handsomely furnished living room in the city home of James 
Nicholas, who has grown immensely rich and is living in great splendor, 
with his wife, Amanda, and only child, Lucile, who is just entering 
young womanhood. Amanda, a woman of forty-five or a little more, is 
walking the floor in a state of suppressed anger. Enter James.) 

Amanda. "James, that sister of your has taken it into her head to 
make us a visit. Think of it, and just at this time, too. We will be the 
laughing stock of the whole city." 

James (in blank astonishment). "Malinda coming to see us? Why, 
in all these years she has never seemed to have had any desire to do so. 
What do you suppose could have put such a notion in her head?" 

Amanda. "Lucile, of course. She has been corresponding with her 
constantly from abroad and since her return. And this morning she re- 
ceived a letter saying Malinda was coming. And Lucile has gone to the 
station to meet her. Oh, it is too much." 

James. "Gone to meet her? Then she is in town by this time, and 
will be here in a few minutes." 

Amanda. "Yes, at any moment, and what on earth are we going to 
do with Malinda day after tomorrow at Lucile's debut party, when the 
whole fashionable world is to be here? I told you years ago it was a 
great mistake to allow Lucile to keep in touch with Malinda. She could 
so easily have been kept away from that farm life, and now she would 
know nothing of your early surroundings, and Malinda would not be thrust- 
ing herself on us." 

James. "Amanda, I regret her coming as much as you possibly can. 
But what are we going to do that she has come without warning?" 

Amanda. "What are we going to do? That is just like a man. You 
have got to manage in some way to keep her in the background." 

James. "Oh, Lord! You don't know Malinda." 

(Enter Lucile, accompanied by Malinda, who is dressed in a provincial 
costume, including a woollen shawl and poke-bonnet. Malinda is carrying 
carefully an old-time carpet bag. Lucile has in her hands a basket and a 
cotton umbrella. Malinda, who is gazing in utter astonishment at the 
grandeur of her surroundings, steps on to the highly polished floor, when 
her feet go from under her and she comes down with a thud on top of the 
carpet bag. The negro butler rushes from the hall, and, aided by Lucile, 
assists her to her feet, while James and Amanda stand looking on in utter 
disgust. As Malinda gains her feet she looks ruefully at her carpet bag, 
which the butler is picking up.) 

Lucile (evincing great concern). "Aunt Lindy, did it hurt you? 
Robert has polished this floor until no one will be able to stand on it. 

Malinda. "No, child, I ain't hurt; jist skeered a little; but it sarved 
me right. I had'n ought'r put them eggs in that bag. And jist to think, 
my new bonnet is in there on top up 'em, or 1 should say now all mixed 
up in 'em." 

Lucile t sympathetically ) . "Oh, that's too bad, but don't you worry. 
We can get another bonnet easily." (Turning to James.) "Father, here is 
Aunt Lindy." 

James (coming forward in a perfunctory manner). "Malinda, this 
is indeed a surprise." 

Winnowing — 5 



Malinda (throwing her arms about his neck, kissing him with much 
feeling). "Yes, Jeems K., I though I'd take you by surprise. Law, Jeems K., 
how you hev changed. Why, I wouldnt 've 'a knowed you. You air a real 
good-lookin' man. An' you look like you might be a great one, jist like a 
United States Senitor, what I saw not long 'go in Westmorelan'." 

(In the meanwhile, Lucile has moved around to Amanda, to whom she 
speaks in an aside.) 

Lucile. "Mother, you must receive her kindly." 

Amanda ( with a toss of her head advances ) . "How do you do, Ma- 
linda?" (extending her hand and in a most formal manner shakes hands). 

Malinda (somewhat abashed). "Well, howdy, Mandy. I reckon kissin' 
is gone out of fashion these days." 

Lucile. "Now, let me take your bonnet and shawl, Aunt Lindy (unty- 
ing the bonnet and removing it, also the shawl ) . I have ordered some lunch 
brought in here for you." 

(In the meanwhile Amanda had taken a seat and picked up some 
fancy work and James had thrown himself into a chair, looking uncom- 
fortable. ) 

Malinda. "No, thank you; I'll wait for dinner. It must be nigh 
twelve o'clock." 

Lucile. "But Ave do not have dinner until night" (as she removes her 
own hat and coat ) . 

Malinda (in astonishment). "Dinner at night! Then go to bed on 
a full stomach? No wonder you all look so down in the mouth. It's indi- 
gestion; that's what it is" (as she takes a seat). 

Amanda (with an effort). "Did you have a pleasant trip, Malinda?" 

Malinda. "Oh, yes, pretty fair, considering I was cramped up on a 
railroad train for six mortal hours." 

James. "What is Billy doing with himself these days." 

Malinda. "Ain't you hear'ed that Billy was a-running for a canidate 
for the Legislature? Yes, he's running, and he's going to get 'lected, too, 
for you know Billy's a pretty shifty sort of a fellow, and when he sets 
his head to a thing there ain't no stoppin' him." 

James. "What does he want to go to the Legislature for?" 

Malinda. "Well, Billy's got the notion in his head that he's cut out 
for somethin' great. Why, do you know Billy's a nateral-born oritator; 
an' his public prayers air the administration of the whole country. Why, 
Billy says so hisself. An', Jeems K., you know Billy give you your first 
lessons in tradin', an' him it was that put you on the road to prostitution ; 
an' if the truth was tole, Jeems K., you owe every cent of your indebted- 
ness to Billy" (said with great unction). 

Lucile. "And if Uncle Billy is elected, Aunt Lindy, will you come 
to the city while the Legislature is in session?" 

Malinda. "To be sure. You don't think I am goin' to desert Billy 
just 'cause he's got mixed up in politicks, do you? No, I took Billy fur 
better or worse, and I mean to stick to him." 

Lucile. "I am afraid you think politics rather demoralizing." 
- Malinda. "Well, I know men in politicks an' out o' 'em, an' they are 
a pretty skitish set, an' it won't do to give 'em too much rope; if you do 
they are dead sure to hang theyselves. Why, Billy went over to Chat- 
tanooga to a convention meetin', an' he come home Avith a bright red cravat 
an' a big checked vest on. An' I jist tole him that whenever a man of his 
age got to Avarin' them kind of close, you'd better Avatch him. I said it in 
fun like, an' Billy semed to think it Avas a good joke. But sure as you air 
born, them's the signs. An' Avhen a man gits 'em you'd better put on the 

6 — Winnowing 



bridle, fur whenever an old family horse runs 'way he don't never stop 
'till he tears things up." 

Lucile. "Which, Aunt Lindy, the man or the horse?" 

Malinda. "Both o' 'em. And I ain't goin' to let Billy git away 

from me. I see too much o' this effinity business in the papers to 

suit me." 

Lucile. "Then you take the papers?" 

Malinda. "Oh, yes. Billy is some educated, you know, an' he's great 
on readin'. An' awful proud of hearin' hisself read aloud. 'An' he prac- 
tices all the time on me. An' when I am too busy, the old black cat seems 
to answer the purpose. An' really, Billy has learnt me a lot. Do you 
know, I used to make some awful blunders in talkin', but Billy alius kirects 
rne, an' I'm glad uf it. But I do git somewhat put out sometimes when I'm 
in a hurry to tell a thing and he stops me to make me git my language 
right. Billy, he's a terrable fellow on languages. He set up o' nights 
studying the blue-back speller, an' the dictionary. But, Lucile, you ain't 
tole me a thing 'bout your party. Law, what a pitty I broke 'all them 
fresh eggs. They would'v come in so handy." 

Lucile. "Oh, it is just to be a big affair with all of father's and 
mother's friends and acquaintances invited, to whom I am expected to 
make my social bow." 

Malinda. "Well, don't think you air going to be shamed of me. I 
went over to Westmorelan' an' had a brand-new black silk dress made. I 
ain't had it on yet, but it's powerful fine looking. Nothin' would do Billy 
but that I had to have jist as good as anybody. An' he said it would come 
in handy when we go to the Legislater." 

James (rising). "Well, Malinda, I will see you later. I must be 
going to my office." 

Malinda. "You ain't goin' to work in them close, air you? Why, 
you're dressed up like you're going to a funeral." 

James. "My work, you know, is with my head. I do not have to 
soil my clothes." 

Malinda. "Well, it seems to hev been pretty profitable, jedgin' from 
the looks o' things." 

James. "Yes, Malinda, I have made something of a success in life." 
Malinda. "Well, Jeems K., I'm glad to see it. An' I'm proud of 
you. I never would hev believed it. When you left home you was 'bout as 
onlikely a fellow as I ever saw. But Ma alius believed you was cut out 
for somethin' different from what you was. An' Ma was pretty nigh alius 
right." 

James (turning to his wife). "Amanda, I should like to see you pri- 
vately for a few moments." (Exit James and Amanda, by a side door. At 
the same time, a man between sixty and sixty-five appears at the hall door, 
unannounced. On his once handsome face there are the traces of dissipa- 
tion. His bearing is that of the well-bred man of the world.) 

Lucile (advancing to meet him as he steps into the room) . "Oh, Cousin 
William, I am so glad to see you." 

The Captain. "And I you, little one" (taking her hand and kissing 
it with old-time gallantly). "I came especially to take a look at you. 
Stand off and let me take you in. The same locks, around which the sun- 
beams play hide and seek. The same merry twinkle in your eye, which 
sets even an old man's heart in motion, turning his brain topsy-turvy, mak- 
ing him do and say foolish things. Now coiiie nearer" (taking her face be- 
tween his hands and looking earnestly into her eyes). "Let me look into the 
windows of your soul. Ah ! the same pure fountain. Keep it so, my child ; 
keep it so" (the last sentence said with much feeling). 

Lucile. "My, how serious you have grown. Come, be your own gay, 

Wmnoiving — 7 



original self; anybody can be serious. I want you to meet Aunt Lindy." 
( Turning to Malinda. ) "Aunt Linda, this is Captain Thornton, the Cousin 
William whom I used to quote so frequently." 

(The Captain and Malinda shake hands cordially.) 

Captain. "Mrs. Jones, I am delighted to meet you, whom I feel I have 
known for many years through Lucile." 

Malinda. "It looks like I ought to hev knowed you afore, being as 
you air Lucile's cousin, and I'm her nateral aunt." 

The Captain. "And I know we shall be friends, which is but nat- 
ural, as we belong to the same family and have to begin with one subject, 
on which we will agree, Lucile, for I know you love her." 

Malinda. "Love her? Well, I should say I do. Why, that's what's 
brought me here now, an' I 'left my old man to home runnin' fur a canidate 
fur the Legislater." 

The Captain. "So your husband is a politician?" 

Malinda. "Well, he's a canidate." 

(The butler appears with tray ladened with eatables and places it on 
the large table at one side of the stage. Then withdraws.) 

Lucile. "Come, Cousin William, and join Aunt Lindy at lunch. I 
shall do the honors. You know Aunt Lindy has just arrived and must be 
nearly starved by this time." 

(They all three move up to the table.) 

Malinda. "Lucile, me an' the Captain is both home folks. We could 
jist hev gone to the kitchen an' got a bite to eat 'stid o' puttin' on all this 
style." 

Captain. "Lucile is training that fancy negro, Mrs. Jones, and you 
and I* are good material for her to practice on." 

Malinda (as Lucile is serving them from the tray). "Is thet so? 
Well, she's got that nigger so dressed up I don't see how he's goin' to 'tend 
to his business. Onct I tried that on Sam, our nigger, to home. You know 
he works on the farm. Billy had invited some of the canidates who was 
a-speakin' in Crabapple County, to our house to dinner. We had jist fin- 
ished the new house, an' Billy was powerful proud of it. Billy said it 
wouldn't never do for me to wait on 'em at table. So we dressed Sam up 
in Billy's old close. They was some too big, bein' as Billy weighs nigh 
two hundred an' fifty pounds, an' Sam is a little nigger. But I thought the 
folk's have their backs to Sam. Your friend, Mr. Carroll, was a-stayin' to 
our house then, Lucile, an' he was awful polite, for when that nigger bumpted 
into his back, with the hot coffee pot, an' it run down his back, spilin' his 
collar, he jumped a little, but never said a word. An' Jedge Simpkins (he's 
a show 'nough jedge from Westmorelan' ) , when that nigger spilt the whole 
dish of turnip greens in his lap, he jist laughed like it was a joke. Billy 
says he's a show 'nough politican, too." (Lucile and the Captain are 
laughing very heartily. When the butler announces Mr. Carroll, Lucile 
leaves the Captain and Malinda eating and talking, as she advances to 
meet Percy.) 

Percy (with liand extended and a cordial smile on his face). "Well, 
how goes America with a young woman who has been around the world, 
seen the crowned heads of Europe, explored its old castles, and dreamed 
dreams, no doubt, of buying one of them along with its impoverished 
owner ?" 

Lucile. "To a young woman who has not been cursed with hallucina- 
tions, which you dignify as dreams, America is still the greatest country 
in the world, and America's noblemen greater than kings." 

Percy. "Bravo! The same independent, well-balanced young woman 
foreshadowed in the red-headed, self-willed child." 

8 — Winnowing 



Ltjcile. "Will, you never forget that my head is red and my tem- 
per fiery?" 

Percy (laughing). "Oh, I beg pardon. I forgot how sensitive you used 
to be about your red hair." 

Ltjcile. "Yes, and still am. But here is Aunt Lindy" (as they turn 
to Malinda and the Captain) "from whom I have just learned that you and 
she are old acquaintances." 

Percy (going up to Malinda with the air of an old friend). "Well, 
Aunt Lindy, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure." 

Malinda (rising with her mouth full of bread, takes Percy's hand). 
" Ton— my— word, Per-ey Car-roll— the sight o' you is good for the sore 
eyes. And you ain't got married yet?" 

Percy. "No, Aunt Linda, I have not found a woman yet who will 
agree to spoil me as you do Uncle Billy." 

Malinda. "Oh, go long with your foolishness. Didn't I tell you 
you'd lived single long 'nough, and if you didn't look out you'd git sot in 
your ways?" 

The Captain. "That is good advice, Percy; you'd better take it." 

(The butler announces Mr. and Mrs. Gilroy. Enter Tom and Rose 
Gilroy.) 

Rose. "How is everybody?" 
. Toji. "Everybody here present seems to be having a good time." 

Lucile. "Only needing you two to make the occasion complete. Let 
me introduce to you my aunt, Mrs. Jones. Aunt Lindy, these are my 
friends, Mr. and Mrs. Gilroy. 

Malinda. "Proud to know you. Lucile's friends air all'us my friends." 
(They shake hands.) 

Rose. "Mrs. Jones, I feel that I have known you always, through 
Lucile and Mr. Carroll, but did not know- you were here. When did you 
come ?" 

Malinda. "Jist lit 'bout a hour ago. Jist been having a snack. Won't 
you have some?" 

Rose (suppressing a smile). "Thank you, no; we have just lunched." 
Tom. "How did you leave Mr. Jones? I understand he is going to 

be elected to our next Legislature." 

Malinda. "Billy's pretty peart, an' he says he's shore to git there." 
The Captain. "Mrs. Jones, how does your husband stand on the 

tariff question?" 

Malinda. "Billy says he's for paying' the durned thing off, an' bein' 
done with it." 

(Malinda. Percy and the Captain move off to the side of the stage, 
laughing and talking.) 

Rose. "Lucile, has Blanche Van Dyke been here ? She left me more 
than an hour ago, with the excuse that she was coming to call on you." 

Lucile. "No, I have not seen her." 

Rose. "Have you ever met Blanche?" 

Lucile. "Not since I was a child. I thought then she was the most 
beautiful woman I ever saw. Is she still so beautiful?" 

Ton ( enthusiastically ) . "Yes, more so than ever. When she mar- 
ried that army officer and left here she was just a pretty girl. Now she 
comes back a howlingly beautiful widow." 

The Captain (from the side). "Who is this beauty you are howl- 
ing over, Tom?" 

Lucile. "Come, Cousin William, and tell us what you think of Mrs. 
Van Dyke over whom Mr. Gilroy is growing eloquent." 

Winnowing — 9 



Rose. "Yes, howlingly so." 

Malinda. "Lucile, I'm goin' to step out an' take a look at the observ- 
atory room, to see your flowers." 

Lucile. "Very well, Aunt Lindy, make yourself at home." (Exit Ma- 
linda.) "Now, Cousin William, we are waiting for your opinion, for you 
are a judge of beauty." 

Captain. "Now, there is a beauty for you. And no mistake about it. 
The kind of beauty which drives men crazy. I can well imagine that Helen 
of Troy looked like this when she turned the head of young Paris, cap- 
tivated the whole of Troy and plunged nations into nine years of war. 
There is a dream in her eye, fascination in her smile, the ineffable charm 
of poetry itself in her movements." 

(Enter Blanche and James.) 

Blanche. "Oh, Captain, who is this unusual creature who has 
awakened in you a memory of the classics and the poet ? Was she a daugh- 
ter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair?" 

The Captain. "Yes, and her loveliness has frozen my swift speech 
with shame and surprise. She has great beauty. Ask thou not her name; 
but may she not be like the other, over whom men drew swords and died, 
for wherever, she went she carried calamity." 

Blanche (laughingly). "Well, Captain, fortunately the day when 
men draw swords over women is past. In this day and time one pretty 
face soon drives out the memory of another." 

Lucile (advancing). "Mrs. Van Dyke, I am glad to see you." 

Blanche (extending her hand). "And this is Lucile, whom I have 
not seen since she was a little girl, with very original ideas, and a will 
of her own. And I dare say she does not remember me at all." 

Lucile. "Indeed, I do, and I can recall just how you looked, and the 
dream of my childish heart was to look and be like you. My favorite dolls 
were called Blanche Clark." 

Blanche. "Oh, how interesting. That was genuine admiration." 

Percy. "Yes, Mrs. Van Dyke, you might call that demonstrated ad- 
miration." 

(In the meantime James has been shaking hands cordially with all 
present except the Captain, whom he treats with great indifference. As 
James turns to rejoin Blanche.) 

Blanche. "Do you know, Mr. Nicholas, I have found a former ad- 
mirer in your charming daughter?" 

James. "How can she help it, Madam? None of us can resist your 
fascination." 

Blanche (moving off with him). "Oh, you flatterer." 

James. "The truth is never flattery." (As they go over to the 
table on which wine and liquors are standing. James serves Blanche and 
helps himself. They remain thus talking.) 

Rose (enthusiastically). "Lucile, day after tomorrow, the clay of 
the party, is almost here. Do tell us what you are going to wear. I know 
you will look dazzlingly beautiful in whatever it is." 

Lucile. "It's just a simple little white dress." 

Pose. "A simple little white dress? I know it's a Parisian creation, 
and I am dying to see it." 

Lucile. "And you shall. Here comes mother." 

(Enter Amanda in stately dignity, greeting each guest.) 

Amanda. "Well, Percy, I am delighted to see you once more. Mr. 
Gilroy, and Pose, my dear, how are you both? Mrs. Van Dyke (with a 
most formal bow, as Blanche moves towards her). And, William, where 
have you been keeping yourself lately ?" 

10 — Winnowing 






Blanche. "Oh, Mrs. Nicholas, I have just been telling your husband 
how delighted and flattered I am at finding in this very charming daughter 
of yours an admirer. She tells me — " 

Amanda (cutting her short, with a significant look at James). "In- 
deed, it must run in the family." 

Blanche (laughing, but somewhat abashed). "I hope so." 

Rose (aside to Percy). "Things are getting warm. We had better 
be going." 

Lucile (as if to make amends). "Yes, Mrs. Van Dyke, when I called 
my dolls for you I thought you were perfect, but I realize now that you 
have improved upon your then irresistible charm both of manner and 
appearance." 

Blanche. "Thank you, my dear; a woman always appreciates a com- 
pliment from another woman more than one from a man." 

Rose. "Really, we must be going. I have an appointment, and, 
Blanche, I know you have." 

Blanche. "Yes, I am late now, as usual." 

The Captain (in an aside to Blanche). "Look out, young woman; 
you are on dangerous ground." 

(All say good-byes and leave the stage, laughing and talking. James 
and Amanda alone.) 

James ( angrily ) . "What did you mean by your rudeness to Mrs. Van 
Dyke? Why, you were absolutely insulting, and in your own home." 

Amanda (equally angry). "Well, I meant to. be insulting. Do you 
think I am going to be fool enough to allow any woman to come into my 
house and flirt with my husband right under my nose, without resenting 
it? No, too many men are finding their affinities these days. Old fools 
who have lived with their wives for twenty or twenty-five years are be- 
ginning to find out that they have just for the first time met an affinity. A 
soul that understands their souls." 

James. "Amanda, you are crazy. I was simply polite to Mrs. Van 
Dyke, who was a guest in the house." 

Amanda. "I suppose you have just been being polite to her for the 
last six months, calling on her at the hotel and riding out in her auto, 
and dangling at her beck and call, making a fool of yourself in general." 

James. "Who's been telling you all this stuff and nonsense?" 

Amanda. "No one has been telling me anything. Do you suppose I 
am such an idiot that I have to be told what everybody sees?" 

James. "What everybody sees?" 

Amanda. ''Yes, this woman, with her wiles and strategy, is making 
a complete fool of you. Now, let me tell you once for all. When I mar- 
ried you I gave up an untarnished name, and I am not going to allow you 
to trail in the dust and mire the one borne by my daughter. But Blanche 
Van Dyke is not troubling me half as much as Malinda. I can get rid of 
Blanche, but what are you going to do with Malinda?" 

James (dropping into a chair). "The Lord only knows." 



Winnowing — 11 



ACT III. 

Scene. (Library in the Nicholas home. The night of the ball. Percy 
Carroll and the Captain in evening dress.) 

Percy. "I came early and have just seen Lucile to tell her I have 
taken the liberty of bringing here tonight an uninvited guest." 

Captain. "I am sure any friend of yours will be welcome. But who 
is it?" 

Percy. "A young man who has come to me under rather peculiar cir- 
cumstances. It is a long story, Captain. Years ago, when I was a very 
young child, my father and mother had a friend who was as dear to 
them as an older brother. He nursed them through yellow fever and saved 
their lives, for he was a physician; but to them he became nurse also. He 
lived on his plantation, down in Louisiana, which adjoined my father's. 
Shortly after my. father's recovery Dr. Watson left Louisiana and came 
somewhere here in Middle Tennessee, bringing with him a little grand- 
daughter, all he had left in the world, for his wife and the parents of the 
infant had been swept away by the same scourge that came so nearly 
depriving me of my loved ones. Finally the old doctor drifted to Europe 
with the young girl, and my father lost sight of them. This young fellow 
is the son of the granddaughter, Caroline Watson. Both she and the old 
doctor died in Europe. A short while before the boy's mother died she 
instructed him to bring to me the private papers of Dr. Watson. Of 
course, I have no idea what their import may be, but I am bound by 
a sacred memory to do by this young fellow as if he were my own. 
A few days before my father's death he said to me: 'My son, the 
time may come when either Dr. Watson or Caroline will need your 
advice or help. If so, remember that you are bound to them by ties closer 
than blood — an obligation that you can never repay.' " 

Captain. "I knew Dr. Watson and Caroline very well." 

Percy (in surprise). "You did? Where?" 

Captain. "In Westmoreland; it was there that he located, feeling 
that he could never return to his desolated home. It was Dr. Watson who 
took an interest in Jim Nicholas when he came to Westmoreland, and to 
him Jim owes everything he is and has today. Dr. Watson secured for 
him a position and taught him everything in the world he knows." 

Percy. "You surprise me greatly; but Carroll evidently has never 
heard of Mr. Nicholas, for if he had I am sure he would have said so when 
I told him I was going to bring him here tonight. But how surprised and 
pleased Mr. Nicholas will be to meet Mm!" 

Captain (significantly). "Well, I do not know about that." 

Percy. "What do you mean ? Certainly a man must feel unspeakable 
gratitude for such service as that rendered by Dr. Watson to Mr. Nicholas." 

Captain. "Percy, Jim Nicholas does not know the meaning of the 
term gratitude. His soul is so steeped in avarice that his daily prayer is: 
'Oh, thou Almighty and Everlasting Dollar, from whom cometh every good 
and perfect gift. Oh, thou Almighty Dollar, whose kingdom is everlasting 
power.' It was the influence of this Almighty Dollar which caused him to 
marry my cousin, Amanda Thornton, who had a few thousand in her own 
name, which Jim got possession of for the price of a marriage license. Now 
that he has reached his kingdom of everlasting power, by the accumulation 
of the Almighty Dollar, do you think he wants to be reminded of the 
time or the man who was in reality his maker, and ought to have stood 
to him as his savior?" 

Percy. "Perhaps not if all you say of him is true." 

12 — Winnovnng 



Captain ( laying his hand on Percy's shoulder ) . "My friend, all I say 
is true, and more, I suspect, but of that I must be convinced before I im- 
part, even to you, my mistrust of the man." 

(Enter Lucile, attired in a girlish costume of white.) 
Lucile. "Cousin WilJiam and Mr. Percy, the two very people I was 
looking for. I want you to see Aunt Lindy. She looks perfectly lovely. 
But what a time I had getting her to submit to the ordeal of hair dressing, 
etc. I wish you could have heard her on the subject. But here she comes. 
Judge for yourselves. How dress transforms womankind!" 

(Enter Malinda, dressed in a handsome black silk, quite up-to-date, 
with hair dressed in the latest style. A well-dressed, well-groomed, good- 
looking woman. 

Malinda. "Well, look at me. An' you never would'r knowed me if 
you had met me in the big road." 

Captain. "Mrs. Jones, you are looking superb, and not a day over 
thirty. Lucile, what would your society friends give for such a com- 
plexion ?" 

Lucile. "They would gladly give a fortune to acquire it." 
Percy. "Aunt Lindy, I am simply lost in admiration, and I wonder 
what Uncle Billy would say if he could see you." 

Malinda. "I reckon he'd be jist like the rest of you, tickled to death 
at the outside show of me. But I shorely do feel like an old fool. And 
what woiild the people in Crabapple County say, if they could see me now? 
Specially them girls in my Sunday School class, what I beholdens to on the 
sin of fancy dressin' ever Sunday. Lord, Lord, I can't never teach Sunday 
School no more; I'd be a plumb hypocrite, me what set up an' let that 
hair woman comb an' fix my head same as I was an imbecile, an' me a well, 
able-bodied woman. Lucile calls it dressin' my hair. Looks to me more 
like mussin' it. Then, couldn't nobody but Lucile have made such a 
gump out'n me. Jist look at these gloves. Now, what's the use keepin' 
on gloves in the house, I'd like to know. An' I'm so girted up in these close 
I jist know my ribs ain't never going back to their right place agin." 

(Enter James and Amanda. The latter regally attired. James stops, 
talks to Percy. The Captain moves off to a mantel in the rear of the 
stage. ) 

Malinda. "La, Mandy, you air worse lookin' than I am. Ain't you 
going to put nothin' over your shoulders?" 

Amanda (indignantly). "Of course not. In society we dress like 
ladies, and I think you brought your nerve with you to be criticising my 
dress." 

Malinda. "Ladies! Well, I reckon them that ain't ladies don't wear 
nothin'. And I know them what ain't in society is got better manners 
than some what air." 

Lucile. "Oh, you two are acting like bad children. I shall have to 
stand you both in corners and make you go without supper." 

Malinda. "Yes, Lucile. Sich doins is belittlin', an' I'm sorry, but 
I kinder lost my temper." 

(Amanda turns from them in disgust and walks over to join the Cap- 
tain, who seems lost in reverie.) 

Lucile (taking Malinda's arm). "Come with me. I want to show 
you the drawing room and the ball room before the guests begin to arrive." 
(Exit Lucile and Malinda.) 

Amanda. "William, what can be done to keep Malinda from making 
a show of herself and us tonight?" 

Captain ( with a start ) . "Malinda ! Oh, yes, I see, Mrs. Jones ; she 
will be a little out of the ordinary, won't she? In whom the society people 

Winnoivinff — 13 



can find something of interest, thereby forgetting for the time being the 
boredom of their own existence." 

Amanda. "You talk as though we were offering her as one of the 
features of the evening. And in your cynical selfishness enjoying the situa- 
tion, no doubt; but I tell you it's no laughing matter to me. And you, as 
my nearest kin, ought to feel the position in which we are placed; for, 
in spite of your affected Bohemianism, you are a Thornton, and must have 
some of the Thornton pride." 

Captain. "Yes, I have a certain kind of pride, but it's the kind which 
says to the world I value people for what they are as individuals; not what 
circumstances and progenitors have done for them. And were I in your 
place I should accept Mrs. Jones, and in my treatment of her say to 
society, T appreciate this woman for her genuine worth, notwithstanding 
she has been denied the advantages of an early education, and knows noth- 
ing of the idles and deceits of a so-called higher social life.' " 

Amanda. "Your position is absolutely untenable. To be made the 
laughing stock of the entire community for the pleasure of performing an 
heroic stunt, is a little out of my line." 

Captain. "They may laugh at her, and will, no doubt; but your 
position, Amanda, will cause this selfsame inconsistent, incomprehensible 
world in which we live to hold you in utter contempt; for as prone as the 
old world is to ridicule, and as thoughtless as it seems, the only people 
in it who command its respect are the ones of independence and true merit. 
And the only ones who have outlived their day and generation have been 
those of freedom of thought and independence of action, and not all of 
them have been men of education, either." (While they continue in con- 
versation. ) 

James. "You say this young fellow is a great-grandson of Dr. Wat- 
son?" 

Percy. "Yes. After Dr. Watson left Westmoreland, where, as you 
know, he lived in very reduced circumstances, his affairs underwent almost 
a magical change. On some lands which had been considered worthless 
valuable minerals were found, and he sold out for several hundred thousand 
dollars. He then took his young granddaughter and went to live in Europe. 
Caroline perhaps married unfortunately, as the boy seems to know but 
little of his father." 

James. "What is the boy's name?" 

Percy. "Carroll Arnold. He was called for my father." 

James. "How old is he ?" 

Percy. "About twenty, I suppose. I have not asked his age, but he 
is young, a mere boy." 

James (with a look of relief). "We shall be glad to know him. I 
knew his grandfather many years ago, and he was very kind to me when 
I was a young fellow struggling to make my way in the world." 

Percy. "So I have understood, Mr. Nicholas." (Said with a look of 
utter contempt on his face, and scorn in his voice. Turning to the Cap- 
tain). "Captain, will you join me in the smoking room?" 

Captain. "Certainly." 

(Exit Percy and Captain.) 

Amanda. "James, we had better go into the drawing room; it is 
almost time the guests were arriving." 

James. "I will join you in a few moments." 

(Exit Amanda as Lucile enters from an opposite door.) 

Lucile. "Father, I want to talk to you for a few moments about 
Aunt Lindy." 

14 — Winnowing 



James. "If you can suggest some way to get rid of her for tonight, 
at least, I will be glad to hear you." 

Lucile (in blank astonishment). "Get rid of her! Why, that is 
simply impossible! And I am shocked and hurt that you could suggest 
such a thing." 

James. "What in the world did you mean by inviting Malinda here, 
just at this time, without consulting either your mother or me?" 

Lucile (indignantly). "I did not invite her, I wrote her from the 
other side that you were going to celebrate in this way my return from a 
trip around the world. And she took it for granted that she would be a 
welcome guest in her own brother's house." 

James (somewhat disconcerted by Lucile's manner). "Well, at any 
other time I should have been glad to have her; but just now, to be made 
the butt of ridicule of the society world is too much. I can stand any- 
thing better than ridicule." 

Lucile. "Father, it is better to have the ridicule of society than 
its contempt, disdain and scorn. She is your sister. You were born of 
the same parents, lived amid the same environments. But you, being a 
man, could get out and create for yourself a place in the world, while she, 
a woman, had to accept the inevitable. And you are ashamed of her for 
this and no other cause? Oh, it is cowardly! I can not believe it of you. 
You who have been big enough to make a success in life, ought to be 
great enough to create or mold the little world around you." (With an 
entire change of manner, throwing her arms around his neck). "Oh, 
father, don't you see that this means more to me than hurting Aunt 
Lindy, unspeakably more than what the world will do or say. It means 
my respect, my admiration for you, you who have been my hero. Ever 
since I was old enough to know anything about the world, I have gloried in 
the fact that you Avere a self-made man, not a creature of circumstance. 
You are a man too big to yield to such a petty weakness." 

James (much moved). "You are right, my child; you are always' 
right. And. Lucile. you are the one being in the world that I love over 
and above all things else. Yes, Malinda shall be one of us, arid we will let 
the world say what it will." 

(The music behind the scene.) 

Lucile. "How happy you Lave made me! I knew you were truly 
great. The musicians have started, the guests are evidently arriving; we 
must go into the drawing room." 

(Exit James and Lucile.) 

(Enter the Captain, quickly followed by Percy and Carroll Arnold.) 

Percy. "Captain Thornton, I want you to meet my young friend, 
Carroll Arnold." 

Captain (extending his hand and speaking with much warmth of 
feeling). "Young man, I am glad to meet the descendant of your great- 
grandfather, one of God's noblemen. Your mother I loved as a little girl, 
and it makes me feel very old, indeed, to see a son of hers grown." 

Carroll. "Captain Thornton, you can not appreciate my feeling un- 
less you have lived in a foreign land, and for the first time felt the cordial 
grasp of the hand of one who knew and loved those who were dearer than 
life to you." 

Captain. "My dear boy, I am a lonely man in my native country, so 
much so that I can fully sympathize with you. Were you born in Europe?" 

Carroll. "Yes, and lived there all of my life, but I can not remem- 
ber a time when I did not have a longing for America, strange as it may 
seem. But I suppose the real reason was my grandfather, who lived until 
I was 14, never tired of telling me of the greatness of this country." 

Captain. "How long has your grandfather been dead?" 

Winnowing — 15 



Carroll. "Ten years. He lived to a great age, over .ninety when he 
died." 

Captain. "Then you are twenty-four now" (as he glances at Percy 
and then looks earnestly at Carroll ) . ,■ - • 

Percy. "You are older than I thought, Carroll. I told Mr. Nicholas 
that you could not be over twenty." 

Carroll. "Yes, every one takes me to be younger than I am, but I 
will be twenty-five my next birthday. And that is one thing that brought 
me to America. My grandfather stipulated in his will that not until then 
was I to come into the possesion of my estate, which is in the hands of a 
trust company in this country. And he also suggested to my mother that 
I consult you, Mr. Carroll, in regard to my future plans. So here I am." 
Captain (looking intently at the boy). "Carroll, tell me of your 
mother. I left Westmoreland before she was grown. I remember her as 
a child of large dark eyes, with a wistful expression." 

Carroll. "My mother. Well, of course, I am a partial judge, but to 
me she was almost perfect. She, was a woman of unusual intellect, utterly 
unselfish, her breadth and charity were superhuman. Her life work, her 
passion,* was to save women, to shelter the young from temptation, and 
reclaim the fallen. And her success was marvelous. She had a way of 
reaching the hearts of women. But she was a sad woman. The loss of 
my father seemed to have thrown a deep shadow over her life, one 
she never came from under. I could never talk to her of him; the 
tears would come to her eyes and she would say to me: 'My son, there 
are sorrows in life too deep for utterance. In my heart there is a grave 
that I dare not open for fear of being consumed by an overwhelming grief.' 
And, Captain, her eyes never lost that wistful look. Indeed, it was at. 
times pathetic, but she was beautiful. 0, so beautiful." 

Captain ( placing his hand on Carroll's shoulder ) . "My boy, you- 
have drawn a striking picture of a woman made perfect through suffering." 
Carroll. "Captain, did you know my father also?" 
Captain (with sadness). "No, my boy, I did not." 

(Enter Rose.) 
Pose. "Oh, you must, all of you, go into the drawing room and see 
Lucile introducing Mrs. Jones. She has taken a decisive step. And there 
she stands, true to her colors. There is absolute heroism in her manner 
and bearing, and woe betide the man or woman Avho jeers at 'Aunt Lindy.' 
O, how I admire her pluck, her courage." 

Percy. "So do I; there is something truly great in a young girl who 
can take such a stand on an occasion like this." 

Captain. "And we in our conceit call women the weaker vessel. I 
tell you, it requires greater bravery to calmly meet and conquer a laugh- 
ino- world than to go forth to battle under the spur of excitement or the 
impulse of the moment." 

(Enter Tom and Malinda.) 

Malinda (fanning vigorously). "Whew! how hot this house is, and 
talking agin that music, and all them people talkin' to once, and nobody 
list'nin' to nobody — is the most complexing thing I ever saw. And the way 
them women are dressed is sacrilegious." 

Rose. "We would infer, from that, Mrs. Jones, you do not approve 
of the decolette" gown." 

Malinda. "The what?" 

Captain. "The dress, if you were speaking in Biblical langauge, you 
would call 'low and behold.' " 

Malinda. "Well, now, you'v hit it, Captain. An' thankful I am thet 
Billy Jones is to home, an' more'n likely is in bed, a-sleepin' the sleep of 
the 'virchus right now. Why, the way them women did flatter Jeems K. 

16 — Winnowing 



Polk was enough to turn the milk of human kindness to clabber. An' he 
jist swallowed hook, bait an' all. An' I would like to hev tole some of 'em 
what I heard talkin' behind thur back, what I thought o' 'em, but on 
Lucile's responsibility I. had to be polite. Specially that woman who said, 
'It's strange, for he looks like he might 'ev been to the manner born.' Now, 
Jeems K. Polk was born in a respectable log house, an' his. pa an' ma was 
duly married, an' I don't thank nobody to "say such cutting remarks 'bout 
'em. An', besides, it ain't polite nohow to be talkin' 'bout people in their 
own house. Why, in Crabapple County there ain't nobody but what is 
better mannered than that." 

Tom. "In polite society, Mrs. Jones, people take liberties. They 
show their superior breeding by criticising their host and hostess; also 
each other." 

Malinda. "Polite fiddlesticks. I call it outlandish." 

Percy. "Come, Aunt Lindy, you and 1 will go and take a look at 

the enjoyment of society instead of railing at it." (Offers his arm, which 

Malinda accepts.) 

Malinda. "All right, Percy; that might be more like a Christian." 
Captain. "Come on, Carroll. We'll join the Christian band, too." 
Caeeoll. "With pleasure." (Exit the four.) 

Rose. "What a picnic Mrs. Jones is; but I feel sorry for Lucile." 
Tom. "So do I, but let's go and see the fun." 

(Exit Tom and Rose, as James and Blanche enter from an opposite 
door. ) 

James. "What a relief to get away from that throng, for a moment 
of real happiness." (Looking most tenderly at Blanche.) 

Blanche (with coquetry). "Wouldn't you say the same thing to 
any other woman who happened to be with you?" 

James. "No, you know there is no other woman in the world that I 
love as I do you." 

Blanche. "Hush" (looking around) "you might be overheard." 

James. "Come with me into the conservatory, where we can be 
alone." 

Blanche. "This is imprudent." 

James. "Oh, every one has gone to the ball room. I must have you 
to myself for a little. Come or I will take you in my arms right here." 

Blanche. "That is what I 'thought you were going to do once or. 
twice in the drawing room from the look in your eyes. Don't you know 
people will see this ? How often must I tell you that you must be more 
careful ?" 

James. 'Blanche, I cannot help it; I am simply beside myself. Come, 
don't you see I cannot keep my hands off you." (Putting his arm around 
her and drawing her towards the conservatory door, through which they 
disappear. ) 

(Enter Lucile.) 

Lucile. "Oh, I must be alone for a moment" (dropping into a chair). 
"How I wish this night were ended. It was so different when I was a 
child in the country with dear Aunt Lindy. I could not realize what a 
show she would be among such people" (with a break in her voice). "And 
I have tried so hard to be brave, and indifferent to the laughter and jeers" 
(sobbing) "Oh, oh." (Hearing some one coming, she tries to control 
herself. ) 

(Enter Percy.) 

Peecy. "What, in tears" (very tenderly). "Little girl, this will 
never do." 

Winnowing — 17 



Lucile (irritated). "I am not crying. I am tired." 

Percy. "Of course yon are, but tell me, what's the trouble? You 
know you used to make a confidant of me. You and I have gotten over 
some rough places." 

Lucile (smiling). "Yes, I know I must have been a great bore when 
a child, for I went to you with all of my troubles." 

Percy. "You were never a bore, and you know it." 
Lucile (laughing). "But I did have a fiery temper, and my red head 
was always getting me into trouble. Do you remember the time I went 
to your office with that bottle of hair dye to confide in you my determina- 
tion to dye it? And you treated the matter so seriously and read me a 
lecture." 

Percy. "As if it were yesterday, Lucile. I can see that little tot 
standing there with a mysterious looking parcel tucked under her arm, as 
she gazed earnestly into my face, with her dark eyes fairly snapping, and 
said, 'Mr. Percy, I want to tell you a secret. You won't tell, will you ?' 
Then drawing confidingly near to me, she tragically announced, 'I am going 
to dye my hair.' And when I asked seriously why she wanted to dye that 
glorious hair she stamped her foot in irritation, as the tears of anger gath- 
ered in her eyes, and exclaimed: 'Oh, everybody calls it red, and I don't 
want to be red-headed.' And when asked what color she wanted she re- 
plied, emphatically, 'Black, coal Mack.' " 

(The butler passes through with a bottle of wine and two glasses. 
Goes into the conservatory.) 

Lucile. "Yes, and then you took that same bad little girl on your 
lap and told her in grave tones what a fright she would be with her 
head shaved." 

Percy. "And her utter astonishment when told it would grow out 
short red hair instead of those long silken curls. She then puckered her 
saucy little mouth and reluctantly said, 'Well, I guess I had better give 
you the bottle of hair dye.' And foreclosed all future temptation by suit- 
ing the action to the word." 

Lucile (laughing heartily). "What a good memory you have; that 
was years ago. I, too, can recall so vividly the whole scene. How seriously 
you treated the matter. Most people would have laughed at and ridi- 
culed me." 

Percy. "Perhaps, but that was a real sorrow to the childish heart, 
realizing that I sympathized Avith it." 

Lucile. "Yes, my hair was a source of mortification, and your un- 
derstanding, I think, it must have been, that caused me to go to you for 
consolation." 

Percy. "And you remember I told her I would keep that hair dye 
until she was grown, and then we would see if she still wanted to use it? 
Well, Lucile, I have the dye. Do you want it? 

Lucile (amused). "Oh, dear, no." 

Percy. "I knew the time w r ould come when you could appreciate 
that crown of glory." 

Lucile ( suddenly ) . "But what have you done with Aunt Lindy ?" 

Percy. "I had completely forgotten her and my instructions. I left 
her with the Captain. Your mother sent me to find you and bring you 
back to the ball room." 

Lucile. "I am not going; I am going to remain here for a while. 
You go and tell mother I am engaged. Then, Mr. Percy, you come back; 
I want to talk to you." 

Percy.. "I will deliver your message promptly, and return with a 
great deal of pleasure." (Exit Percy.) 

18 — Winnovnng 



(Lucile goes over to an oriel window, where she takes a seat, hidden 
from view by drapery.) 

(Enter Blanche and James, from the conservatory. James with his 
arm about Blanche draws her violently to him, kisses her, still holding her 
to his breast.) 

James. "Great God, woman, do you know how I love you? I would 
barter my soul to possess you, to know that you were mine, body and 
soul. O, my darling, I am passing through the tortures of hell; I must 
have you, you shall be mine, my own. If you love me what is there to 
prevent? A woman has a perfect right to give herself, and a man to take, 
when they are all in all to each other. And by the only law that 
governs the universe — Love — we belong to each other. Blanche, darling, I 
am going to take you home tonight. Do you understand? And this time 
you are not going to evade me, as you have done." 

Blanche ( excitedly, pushing him away ) . "Hush, some one is coming." 
(Enter the Captain.) 

Captain. "Your wife is looking for you." 

James (somewhat confused). "Mrs. Van Dyke and I are on our 
way to join them in the ball room now." 

Blanche. "Yes, won't you come with us, Captain?" 

Captain (as he seats himself on a sofa, and motions Blanche to a 
seat beside him). "Thank you. I prefer entertaining you here for a few 
moments. We can join Mrs. Nicholas later." 

James (annoyed as Blanche takes the seat indicated). "I suppose 1 
am dismissed?" 

Blanche. "Of course. Married men must give way to bachelors in 
a case of this kind." 

James. "Your will is my pleasure." (Exit James.) 

Blanche. "Now, Captain, out with it. I know you are going to 
read me a lecture and I deserve it. I know I was imprudent, but this 
house is stifling, and I wanted a breath of air." 

Captain. "And Jim Nicholas wants somebody to kick him." 

Blanche. "No, really, it was my fault. I think I proposed it, and 
while it was dreadfully thoughtless, I did not — " 

Captain. "No, you did not propose it. You allowed yourself to be 
carried off of your feet by this fellow's avowed admiration and pretended 
love. That is the card he always plays; his true purposes would not allure 
a woman of your stamp." 

Blanche. "O, Captain, you don't for a moment believe that Mr. 
Nicholas has been making love to me?" 

Captain. "Blanche, 1 do not want you to tell me anything. Assur- 
edly not an untruth. I simply want to tell you a few things." (Taking her 
hand and speaking very tenderly). "Little woman, I never loved but 
one woman in the world, and that woman was your mother. For her sake 
I am doing what I never did before — interfering in other peoples' business. 
Do you remember Old Titbottom's magic spectacles, through which he 
could read the hearts of all men, and which he sometimes regarded as a 
gift of the greatest value?" (Blanche nods her head.) "Well, I am going 
to slip those spectacles on you for a little while, just long enough to 
enable you to see one man as he really is." 

(Percy comes to the door and looks in. Not seeing Lucile, he passes on.) 
Captain. "Many years ago an old man came to live in the little city 
of Westmoreland. He was all alone in the world save a little grand- 
daughter, a beautiful, happy-hearted child, whom the old man loved with 
a tenderness that beggars description. The old man became interested in 
a boy from the country who was without money, friends or education. He 
secured for this boy a' position by which he could make a living, and in 

Winnowing ■ — 19 



the boy's leisure hours the old man gave himself up to teaching, drilling — 
in fact, educating him. The boy grew to be a man; he was now pretty 
well educated, and soon showed ability for money making. Shortly he 
married into one of the most prominent families in the country, a woman 
who had inherited some money. His success was assured. But what of 
the old man and the little granddaughter, who had grown into young wom- 
anhood, a girl of about seventeen. Can you imagine the old man's horror 
when he found, after this scoundrel had. married that a short while before, 
he had ruined that child and left her with honor gone and life blighted?" 

Blanche. "0, Captain, that is horrible. What became of the girl 
and the child, perhaps ?" 

Captain. "That you may learn later. But this is not all of this fel- 
low's villainy. Do you remember to have heard of the suicide of Mrs. 
Turner, the beautiful wife of a man who was this villain's friend?" 

Blanche. "Yes, I heard there was a great deal of mystery about her 
death." 

Captain. "The mystery is this: She fell in love with Jim Nicholas. 
Later Avhen he tired of the affair he calmly told her there was no use in 
making a fuss about it, as she alone would go under. That such was the 
law of society, a time-honored law of nature, a law that had existed since 
the dark ages, even before the coming of Christ; a law that has been 
accepted and ratified by every generation since. In other words, be 
considers woman the legitimate prey of man." 

Blanche (in a reflective mood). "The woman killed herself. The 
world said it is better so; we have no sympathy for fallen women. It 
is unwise to even suggest that a fallen woman may redeem herself; the 
world will not have it so. And yet, the vicious man, who has played upon 
her weakness, by his tempting whispering, goes unscathed; indeed, is 
sometimes made a hero of." ( Growing excited and rising. ) "Oh, it is 
infamous, infamous ! '" 

Captain. "Yes, my dear, this attiude of the world is most unjust. 
But why do women continue to be the playthings of men? For woman, 
in all her weakness, is the strongest force upon earth. Women are like the 
buildings of a great city, wherein there are holy temples at Avhich men 
worship in calm peace. Also dens where men gamble away their souls. Is 
man set toward ambition, woman will unlock the inner soul and show him 
the road that leads to glory. Is he worn and weary, she has comfort in 
her breast. Is he fallen, she can lift him up. At her touch honor withers, 
locks open, and barriers fall. She is as infinite as the ocean, and variable 
as the heavens. And thus woman rules the world. Yet she is the slave of 
man." 

Blanche (with much intensity of feeling). "0, Captain, you have 
shown me unto myself. You have saved me from a fate worse than death. 
I was fascinated, yes, infatuated with the man. And I was standing on 
the brink of a bottomless pit. Oh, God, I thank thee." 

Captain. "Yes, we can both thank him that I was not too late, for 
his victims have all been women of your stamp. He is afraid of the com- 
mon woman, afrajd of blackmail." 

Blanche. "Take me away from here, take me home. I never Want 
to see his face again." 

Captain. "Go and get your wraps. I will meet you here in ten min- 
utes." (Exit Blanche, followed by the Captain.) 

(Lucile staggers from her place of concealment. White as death, 
feeling for a chair, falls into it in a swoon. Percy entering from the hall.) 

Percy. "Lucile, where have you been ? I have been looking for you 
everywhere." (Stops at her side, startled and excitedly taking her -hand). 
"Child, what is the matter? Oh, Lucile, speak to me. My God! What 
has happened, my darling?" (Presses a kiss upon her brow, then start* 
and draws back). "No, not thus. She has fainted. I must have help." 

20 — Winnoioing 



(He rushes to the door and to some one on the outside. "Call Mrs. Jones 
or Mrs. Gilroy quickly." (As he turns around he knocks over a chair, 
upsets a vase on the table, stumbles over a rug. Bending over Lucile he 
takes her hand.) "Will they never come? What on earth can I do?" 
(Turns again to the door.) 

(Enter Rose and Malinda excited.) 

Rose. "What is the matter?" (Sees Lucile.) "Lucile, Lucile! Oh, 
what has happened to her ?" 

Malinda (going up to Lucile). "She's got a faintin' fit. Come here, 
Percy Carroll. Lay her down on the floor. Don't you know 'nough to put 
people flat out when they faints ?" 

(Percy and Malinda lay Lucile on the floor. Rose rushes for water. 
Percy stands looking frightened and helpless. Malinda kneels by Lucile 
and, taking the water from Rose, begins to bathe her face.) 

Malinda. "Percy, go for a doctor. Ain't there none in the house?" 

Rose. "Yes, Dr. Blank, a homoepathic doctor." 

Malinda. "No, I don't want no homicede doctor. Sugar an' water 
may do for the infantry, but adultery needs something stronger." (As she 
continues bathing Lucile's face.) 

(The Captain appears at the door, is startled, looks around, takes in 
the. window and the confusion of the room, grasps the situation.) 

Captain (aside). "My God, in trying to save a weak woman I have 
broken the heart of a strong one." 

Percy. "I will get a doctor." ( Starts hurriedly to the door. Meets 
the Captain in overcoat and hat in hand.) 

Captain. "What is the matter?" 

Peecy. "I found Lucile here a moment ago in a dead faint. Am hurry- 
ing for a doctor." (Exit Percy.) 

(Blanche appears at the door in wraps and furs. The Captain hur- 
ries her away. Rose has knelt by Lucile, and with Malinda is rub- 
bing her hands.) 

Malinda. "She's better now. Lucile, darlin', you jist had a faintin' 
fit. An' no wonder; this house is odious with flowers." 

(Lucile partially raises herself, and looks around in a startled and 
dazed manner. Then throws her arms around Malinda's neck and sobs 
hysterically. ) 

Malinda (coddling her as she would a child). "Yes, honey, tell Aunt 
Lindy what's the matter." 

Lucile. "Oh, Aunt Lindy, take me away from here. Take me home 
with you, to the country — away from deceit, treachery and corruption." 

(She clings to Malinda, sobbing as if her heart would break.) 



Winnowing — 21 



ACT IV. 
Ten Days Later. 

Scene. (Law office of Carroll & Gilroy. Percy Carroll seated at a desk, 
surrounded by papers, his head resting on his hand, seemingly lost in 
thought, when Tom Gilroy enters with court records in hand.) 

Tom. "Well, I got those cases put off, but for the life of me I can't see 
why we did not let that Miller trial at least come up ; everything is ready." 

Peecy. "Simply because I must give it my undivided attention, which 
I cannot do just at this time." 

Tom. "Percy, what in the devil is the matter with you? For a week 
or ten days you have not been yourself." 

Percy. "No, perhaps not; I have the most harassing situation I ever 
encountered, and I do not know how to handle it without the Captain's aid, 
and he, as you know, is in no condition to assist me." 

Tom. "No, he has been drunk ever since Lucile's party, and no one 
ever sees him in that condition." 

Percy. "The Captain is the gentleman even in his sprees. None of 
his most intimate friends ever saw him drunk, and yet we all know his 
habit." 

Tom. "Shuts himself up with that negro George, who will lie like a 
cavalier for him. Tell you he is desperately ill, has rheumatism, out of 
his head from fever, anything; but you simply cannot see the Captain." 

Percy. "I believe I'll telephone George and find out what the prospect 
is of seeing him any time soon." (Going towards the 'phone.) 

Tom. "Good idea." 

Percy (at the 'phone). "Give me 702. Hello, that you, George? 
How is the Captain? Mr. Carroll. I am glad to hear that. George, tell 
him that I am exceedingly anxious to see him. Hello, that you. Captain? 
I am glad to know you are better. Yes, it's most important. Young 
Arnold. All right. I'll be here. Good-bye." (Hangs up the receiver. 
Turning to Tom). "He's coming here, and, Tom, I am going to ask you 
to leave us alone for a while. This is a private matter of importance." 

Tom. "All right. Have you heard from Lucile today?" 

Percy. "Yes, but she still refuses to see any one." 

Tom. "So they told Rose last night. What can be the matter with 
her? Pose says she evidently received some sort of shock the night of 
the ball." 

Percy. "I don't know about that. I found her in a dead faint. It 
may have been that she was not well, and the excitement and the heat 
brought on a little sick spell." 

Tom (sarcastically). "That is a most plausible construction to put 
upon the situation, and I know you believe every word of it. Lucile in a 
dead faint in the library, the Captain disappeared mysteriously with 
Blanche Van Dyke, then goes off on a ten days' drunk. Blanche without 
warning packs herself off to New York. Jim Nicholas looks like a man 
condemned to be hange.d. Lucile shuts herself up in her room and sees 
no one but Aunt Lindy. And for once in her life Aunt Lindy is not talk- 
ing." 

Percy. Shut up and keep your suspicions to yourself, or you'll set 
the whole town afire with scandal." 

Tom. "All right, I'll go home and talk the matter over with Rose. 
She is one woman who can keep a still tongue in her head if necessary." 
(Going toward the door.) 

Percy. "It's more than you seem to be able to do." 

Tom. "I forgive you, old boy; for it is the first time in our twenty 

22 — Winnowing 



years' friendship I ever knew you to be cross and unreasonable. So long." 
(Exit Tom.) 

Percy (to himself). "I never realized before how provoking Tom can 
be." (Enter the Captain, showing by his appearance the effects of a hard 
spree. ) 

Percy (rising and meeting him cordially). "I am so glad to see you. 
Take this easy chair. I hated to disturb you, biit I have the most damnable 
piece of news to impart." 

Captain (sinking into the chair). "I think I know its nature. Gar- 
roll Arnold is the son of Jim Nicholas, and you have been appointed the 
cheerful mission of imparting to the young fellow knowledge that may, yes, 
will, wreck his life." 

Percy ( in utter astonishment ) . "What ! You know this ? How did you 
find it out?" 

Captain. "I suspected it the moment I heard the.boy's name. Few 
people knew that Caroline's name was Arnold, for Dr. Watson religiously 
kept it to himself. For some reason he did not like her father, and after 
the death of Arnold and his wife, who was Dr. Watson's daughter, he 
changed Caroline's name to Watson. She was then an infant, and never 
knew any other father or mother save the old doctor. I have no idea that 
Jim Nicholas ever knew her real name. Perhaps even you did not 
know it." 

Percy. "No, I did not. But can it be possible that Nicholas does 
not know the boy is his son?" 

Captain. "No, he does not know it. I was talking to Amanda, but 
watching Jim, when you were telling him who Carroll was, and I saw first 
the start, and later the look of relief when you told his age." 

Percy. "My God, what a villain he is." 

Captain. "Yes, he's that all right." 

Percy. "But, Captain, Dr. Watson has left it to my discretion whether 
or not to tell the boy." 

Captain. "In that case do not tell him. I see no use in destroying 
the boy's faith in God and man, which it will do, when he loses faith in 
his mother and conceives contempt and hatred for his father. I have been 
through the torments of hell since I so unconsciously revealed to Lucile the 
true character of her despicable father." 

Percy ( in horror ) . "You did what ?" 

Captain "My boy, didn't you guess the truth? The other night, in 
trying to save Blanche Van Dyke from that seducer's influence, I revealed 
him to her in his real colors, telling her of Caroline and the other woman 
whose lives and happiness he had destroyed, and Lucile was in the window 
behind the curtain and heard the whole story." 

Percy. "Great God. Poor Lucile! How she has been suffering and 
will continue to do so through this man's infamy." 

Captain. "Yes, that is the worst thing about such villains. It is the 
innocent who suffer, while they go scot free." 

Percy. "I know of no one who will feel a thing like this as keenly 
as Lucile. She is proud, high-minded, sensitive. Poor child." 

Captain. "And that I should have been the instrument of bringing 
it on her. I tell you it's hell and damnation. I had better have let 
Blanche go to the bottomless pit." 

Percy. "No, no. If you have saved one woman from such a fate, 
you have won an immortal crown." ( Telephone rings. ) 

Percy (taking down the receiver). "Hello." (A look of surprise 
comes over his face.) "Well, what is it? If you must see me, you will 
have to come here. No. As you please." (Hangs up the receiver.) 

Winnowing — 23 



Percy. "That was Nicholas, in that imperious manner of his, ordering 
me to come to his office." 

Captain. "I judge from your reply that you declined the honor." 

Percy. "Yes, but he is coming here." 

Captain (rising). "Well, I am going; he will be here in a moment 
or two, as he has only to drop two floors on the elevator. And I am in no 
condition to see him now. I am sorely tempted to choke the life out of 
him." 

Percy. "I should willingly throw him out of that window, if, by 
doing so, I could rid the world of his infamy." 

Captain (going out). "Come over to my rooms as soon as you can 
get away from here." 

Percy. "All right." (Exit the Captain. Percy turns and walks to 
the window. Stands looking out when James Nicholas enters.) 

James. "I met that very worthy cousin of my wife's out there in the 
hall. I suppose he has concluded not to drink himself to death yet 
awhile, but will hang around a little longer. It's a pity such men do not 
take themselves out of the world by a shorter route." 

( There is anger in Percy's voice and contempt in his manner as James 
concludes, but he makes a desperate effort at self-control.) 

Percy. "A man may drink whisky and at the same time retain his 
honor and integrity." 

James. "Yes, but it seems rather late in life for Thornton to enter 
the field as a reformer." 

Percy. "To what do you refer?" 

James. "I suppose he has told you of his sudden awakening to a 
sense of virtue, which prompted him to indulge in a lot of sentimental rot 
in regard to Blanche Van Dyke, as though she were an innocent child 
instead of an experienced woman of the world and thoroughly capable of 
taking care of herself." 

Percy. "A weak woman is never capable of taking care of herself." 

James. "Yes, but I notice it is only old men, when they have out- 
grown the pleasure of life, who feel called upon to constitute themselves 
the guardians of women." 

Percy. "Unfortunately, to a certain extent, that is true. But there 
are plenty of men who would not attempt to corrupt a woman's virtue. 
And there are a few men in the world who believe the moral standard 
should be the same for men and women." 

James. "You certainly have more sense than to advocate such a doc- 
trine. You know it is absurd. That there should be a difference between 
the sexes is an established law of nature." (Lucile and Malinda appear at 
the door and stand as if spellbound). "God intended that it should be so. 
He made man the stronger and intended that he should dominate woman, 
and legislate laws of his own — " 

( Percy growing angrier all the while. ) 

Percy. "What do you know of God? You who have betrayed every 
trust, from that of an old man, who stood to you as a savior, to the young, 
innocent girl whom you threw off to become, for all you knew, an outcast, 
at the same time the mother of your child. When a man of your stamp 
takes the name of God on his lips to twist and distort his great purposes to 
suit his own base lusts he ought to be struck dead." 

James (in great rage starts towards him) . "How dare you?" (Lucile 
steps into the room, followed by Malinda.) 

Lucile. "Father." 
• James and Percy (start violently and exclaim simultaneously) . "Lucile." 

24 — Winnowing 



James (greatly excited) . "What are you doing here? This is no place 
for a young girl. Go home at once." 

Lucile. "From what I have seen and heard within the last few days, 
this world is no place for women of any age. They seem to have been 
created solely for man's base purposes." 

James (in alarm). "Lucile, you are mad. What do you know of 
evil in life ? You who have been so tenderly sheltered, protected from every 
ill. From your infancy I have showered upon you every luxury, humored 
your every whim. And, 0, my. child, I have loved you with an idolatrous 
love. Lucile, my child, my baby, come home with me." (As he draws 
near her.) 

Carroll Arnold appears at the door. 

Lucile (repulsing him). "Do not touch me. In your touch there is 
pollution. Yes, you have humored me, you have showered upon me money. 
But what of that other child? What of Caroline Watson and her helpless 
baby, that you left in dishonor, that you might marry my mother, with 
her few paltry thousands ? Where is Caroline Watson ? Where is her 
child?" 

Malinda has dropped, sobbing, into a chair, while Percy stands as if 
petrified. And James is trembling with fear and cowardice. Carroll 
rushes into the room. 

Caeeoll. "0, Mr. Carroll, tell me that this is not true. My mother! 
0, God, my mother!" (Sobs.) 

Percy pulling himself together. Lucile stops as if turned to stone. 

Peecy. "Carroll, my poor boy" (going up and putting his arm on 
his shoulder), "may God help you." 

Caeeoll. "Then it is true. That miserable coward standing there is 
my father. That infamous villain ruined my mother." (Starts towards 
James.) "Then, by the eternal God, this world can not hold both of us." 
( He - springs at James and catches him by the throat and chokes him. 
Percy springs at Carroll and loosens his hold.) 

Peecy. "Carroll, you know not what you are doing." (Carroll 
struggles for a moment, then desists, as James staggers back and falls 
into a chair, groaning piteously. ) 

Caeroll. "No, that is not the way — but he has got to meet me, and 
God shall judge which of the two is best fitted to live." 

Malinda springs to her feet during the excitement. 

Malinda. "Look at Jeems K. Oh, what is the matter with him?" 
(They all turn to him. His eyes have taken on a glazed look. His face is 
blank. His mind gone. He does not speak or seem to see any of them.) 

Lucile (going to him). "Father, father! What is it? Oh, what 
have I done?" (Wringing her hands.) 

Malinda (taking hold of him). Jeems K., don't you know me? 
Don't you know Lindy and Lucile, your own sister an' little girl? Speak 
to me, Jeems K. Oh, it's the work of God. No man could'r clone it." 

Lucile (throwing herself down by his chair). "Father, Oh, father, 
forgive me." 

Percy (bending over him). "Mr. Nicholas, Mr. Nicholas. His mind 
is gone." (All the while Carroll stands looking on with no emotion except 
that of hatred written on his face.) 

Lucile. "Oh, God, my punishment is greater than I can bear." (As 
Percy stands over her trying to comfort, Malinda puts her arm about her 
and lifts her to her feet. ) 

Malinda. "Come with me, baby. You cannot answer God when he 
steps in an' takes charge of things." 

cuetain. 

Winnowing — 25 



ACT V. 

Six Months Later. 
Scene. (Same as first — living room in Nicholas home.) 

Rose. "Isn't this world a place of rapid changes ? Six months ago to- 
day Lucile made her debut with the promise of brilliant social success." 

Tom. "Yes, and on that eventful night, something happened; I don't 
suppose Ave will ever know what, but it changed her, in the twinkling of an 
eye, from a light-hearted girl into a thoughtful, serious woman. Ten days 
later, without warning, Jim Nicholas, the financial king of his little world, 
became a hopeless imbecile." 

Rose. "It is all so mysterious. I can't understand it." 

Tom. "Well, Jim's condition is easily accounted for. He had been 
burning the candle at both ends for twenty-five years or more." 

Rose. "Was he really as bad as people now say he was?" 

Tom. "He couldn't have been much worse, and everybody knew it, but 
he was a power in money matters. Although nobody knew just how his 
fortune was amassed and many were the surmises and speculations, also 
accusations of fraud, deceit and corruption, he had the money, and that is 
what counts. Consequently his doubtful methods went unquestioned, and 
his affairs with women scarcely produced a ripple. I am not worrying 
over Jim Nicholas; he got about what was coming to him. But Percy 
Carroll is puzzling me. . From the most even-tempered, well-balanced man in 
the world he has developel into one of irritability of temper and as restless 
as a woman in love." 

Rose. "Young Arnold is giving Mr. Percy a great deal of trouble. I 
was never so disappointed in a young fellow in my life. When he first 
came here I thought I had never seen a sweeter face or met with a 
more genial nature. Now he is drinking nearly all the while and is 
dreadfully morose; in fact, at times acts like he is insane." 

Tom. "Yes, he is off on another spree now, and while that of course is 
troubling Percy, on account of his friendship for the boy's family, that 
in itself is not sufficient to upset him as he is. Percy knows how to meet 
responsibility, without losing his poise. But lately — well, he is just not 
himself and I do not understand it." 

Rose. "I think the solution to that is — he is in Jove." 

Tom. "In love? That is just like a woman. Let a fellow get out of 
sorts, it may be his stomach, liver or any vital organ, but she puts it clown 
as love. Now, I daresay you think that Blanche Van Dyke's sudden de- 
parture for New York, leaving the general public connecting her name 
with that of Jim Nicholas, has upset Percy because people were foolish 
enough to believe that he was in love with her before her marriage." 

Rose. "Not so fast. Who is connecting Percy with Blanche? No one 
but you that I know of. You, in your anxiety about him, have been afraid 
that such might be the case. And, just like a man, you refute the charge 
before it is made." 

Tom. "Then, in heaven's name, who do you think he is in love with ?" 

Rose. "Lucile, and if you were not as blind as a mole you could have 
seen it for sometime." 

Tom (in utter astonishment). "Lucile! Oh, that is ridiculous. She — " 
(Enter Amanda.) 

Amanda. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but since Lucile has 

26 — Winnowing 



taken up these absurd philanthropic ideas of hers Ave have so little social 
life that I am not always ready to see company." 

Rose. "Where is Lucile." 

Amanda. "She went off early this morning to the Home for Young 
Women. You know that is her hobby now. And she is riding it with 
might and main." 

Tom. "She seems to have lost all interest in society." 

Amanda. "Yes, I cannot get her to go anywhere since her father's 
affliction." (Whispering.) "Of course James' condition is harder on me 
than it is on Lucile. I can scarcely stand to be where he is, it affects me 
so painfully, but I feel we owe it to ourselves and our friends to make an 
effort to be cheerful." 

Rose ( sympatheticaly ) . "How is Mr. Nicholas ?" 

Amanda. "There is no change in him; the doctors say he will never, 
perhaps, be any better, but will in all probability live for years. Oh, it's 
dreadful, for a man to be cut down in this way. And James was never 
sick in his life." (Enter Lucile.) 

Lucile. "Good morning, Mr. Gilroy, and Rose" (shaking hands), "I 
am so glad to see you. I have had such a busy morning." 

Rose. "You seem to be kept pretty busy all the while with your 
Young Woman's Home. How is it getting along?" 

Lucile. "Splendidly. We had a contribution yesterday of five thou- 
sand dollars. Isn't that fine? And so many people are becoming inter- 
ested in the work." 

Tom. "You are doing a great work, and I believe you really enjoy it 
more than society." 

Lucile. "There is no comparison. It is perfectly glorious to feel 
that you are doing something for others." 

Amanda. "It is most unsatisfactory to find that after you have 
spent yourself and money in trying to help people, how little appreciation 
they have." 

Lucile. "Oh, mother, if you could just see the change in some of those 
girls you would ask for no greater compensation. Girls who came there 
careworn and haggard go out to work with bright, happy faces and return 
eagerly in the evening to a good, comfortable home. We have now thirty 
working girls who can live sheltered and protected lives." 

Rose. "It is a great work, and women of money can do a great deal 
in that direction, but it requires money." 

Lucile. "Yes, it requires money, but unfortunately few women of 
means are interested, they have so many other things to do with their 
money. Why, the other day I asked a young woman to help us, one who 
spends unlimited money on herself, and her reply was that she could not 
afford it. And you ought to have seen her face when I suggested that 
she might deny herself one costume during the season, the price of which 
would keep a poor girl in the home for a year." 

Amanda. "Lucile, I think it was exceedingly impertinent in you to 
take such a liberty." * 

Lucile. "She looked like she thought so, too, mother. And her man- 
ner could not have been more offensive if I had insulted her." (Enter 
•the Captain.) 

Captain. "Good morning." 

All. "Good morning. Howdy do. Captain," etc. 

Amanda. "William, have you seen Percy Carroll this morning?" He 
promised to come here and go over some papers for me." 

Captain. "Yes, he told me he would be here after a while. He has 
been pretty busy." 

Winnowing — 27 



ftB 21 19H 



Tom. "Not in his office. I have scarcely seen him for days." 

Amanda. "Do you know, I think Percy is upset over Blanche Van 
Dyke's going away. They said, he was niadly in love with her before her 
marriage." 

(Tom looks at Rose. The Captain is covertly watching Lucile, who 
starts, then turns away to hide her emotion.) 

Tom. "Why is it you women always have to get a fellow in love? 
Now, Rose — " (Suddenly remembering himself, he stops, confused.) 

Rose (aside to Tom). "Has sense enough to keep her own counsel 
in public." 

Captain (still watching Lucile). "Well, Blanche is a very attractive 
woman. But here comes Percy." (Enter Percy.) 

Percy. "Good morning." 

All. "Good morning." (Lucile remains standing with her hand on 
the mantel. As she returns his salutation and while Percy looks intently 
at her, she seems very indifferent. 

Percy. "Mrs. Nicholas, you must pardon me. I could not get here 
any sooner." 

Amanda. "You have not inconvenienced me in the least. I want to see 
William privately for a few moments. Then you may join us in the 
library. William, can you go with me now?" 

Captain. "Certainly." (Exit Amanda and the Captain.) 

Rose. "Tom, we must be going." (She joins Lucile, and they begin 
to converse.) 

Tom. "Yes, I will be with you in a moment." (Turning to Percy.) 
"Is young Arnold off again?" 

Percy. "Yes, I was up with him all night, and the doctor has just 
succeeded in getting him quiet and to sleep under the influence of a drug." 

Tom. "Do you think the fellow's mind is affected, or is it simply 
whisky ?" 

Percy. "His mind is undoubtedly unbalanced. I think the whisky 
drinking is more the result of his mental condition, but of course it makes 
him worse." 

Tom. "What are you going to do with him?" 

Percy. "We will have to put him in a sanitarium for treatment. I 
have been talking to the Captain about it this morning." 

Rose. "Come on, Tom." 

Tom. "Will see you later, Percy. So long. Good-bye, Lucile; Rose is 
always in a hurry." 

Lucile. "Good-bye, Mr. Gilroy. You ought to discipline Rose." 

Tom. "I have never been able to get the whip handle away from her." 
(Exit Tom and Rose.) 

Percy (approaching Lucile). "Did you get my flowers this morning? 
I was so sorry I could not join you, but it was utterly impossible." 

Lucile (with unnatural manner). "Yes, I got the flowers." 

Percy. "Lucile, what is the matter ?" (Anxiously.) "Something has 
gone wrong. I felt it the moment I entered the room. You are not your- 
self this morning. Won't you tell me what it is ?" 

Lucile (petulantly). "Nothing has gone wrong. I suppose I am just 
a red-headed, bad-tempered child." 

Percy. "You are a very beautiful woman and in my opinion almost 
perfect." 

Lucile (with increased irritation, almost in tears). "No, you look 
upon me as a mere child, and treat me as you would a badly spoiled one. I 
am no longer a child." 

(Taking her hand, which she tries to pull away, but he holds it 
firmly. ) 

Percy. "No, you are a woman, but just now rather an unreasonable 
one. You are evidently angry, and with me. Now, won't you tell me the 
cause? Perhaps I may be able to right matters." 

Lucile (in tearful voice). "That is just the way you used to talk to 

28 — Winnowing 



me when I was a child (with rising anger). "You do not talk to Mrs. 
Van Dyke that way." 

Peect (in astonishment). "Mrs. Van Dyke?" (Lucile nods her head, 
Percy's face brightens perceptibly.) "Lucile, is it possible you can be 
jealous of Blanche Van Dyke?" 

Lucile (in anger). "No I am not jealous. Why should I care any- 
thing about what you think of Blanche Van Dyke?" 

(Kissing her hand in rapture.) 

Percy. "Lucile, tell me that I may hope that you can love me thus; 
that you can be jealous of another. Oh, my darling, I have struggled with 
myself days and nights, scarcely daring to hope, and too much of a coward 
to put it to the test. Lucile, never did man love woman as I do you. May 
I tell you so?" 

Lucile (looking shyly up at him). "That's what I've been waiting 
for." 

(Catching her in his arms and drawing her tenderly to him.) 

Peecy. "My darling, I have been telling you, by my every action, for 
years, that I loved you. Lucile, I have loved you ever since you were a 
little child. Your baby face, your little fingers when you used to nestle 
close to me, unlocked a secret corner of my heart that no woman ever 
touched before nor since. And the memory of your dear little voice, as 
you used to say, 'Mr. Percy, I can trust you,' has stood between me and 
temptation oftener than you will ever know. My darling, you are the one 
and only love of my life." 

Lucile. "Do you love me better than you did Blanche ?" 

Percy. "I never loved Blanche. I never told her so. I have never 
loved any woman but you. You are the first and will be the last. Are 
you satisfied?" 

Lucile. "Yes." 

Peecy. "And you love me?" 

Lucile. "With all my heart." 

Peecy. "And will you be my wife?" 

Lucile. "Yes." 

Imprinting a long and loving kiss, her arms steal about his neck. 

Peecy. "My wife. I wonder, little one, if you realize what this means 
to me? My darling, my own. More than all else in the world. Indeed, 
you are my world in which my whole being is centered." (Kisses her 
again and again.) 

Lucile. "Your arm about me and your kisses on my lips has awakened 
in my soul a joy unspeakable. Oh, I am so happy." (As she nestles closer 
to him and her head sinks on his breast.) 

Peecy. "My darling, my wife. You have made me the happiest man 
on earth." 

The Captain appears at the door. 

Captain. "Well, you look it. But old men are deaf and blind, so 
don't mind me." 

(Lucile in confusion tries to pull away, but with his arm still about 
her Percy turns to the Captain, smiling. ) 

Peecy. "Captain, congratulate me. Lucile has promised to be my 
wife." 

Captain. "With my whole heart, I congratulate you both." (Taking 
a hand of each, and placing that of Lucile's in Percy's, very earnestly. 
"Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. And you, 
my children, have renewed my faith in the old adage, that marriages are 
made in heaven. And now, Lucile, I, too, must claim a kiss." (Kisses her.) 
"I am sorry to interrupt you, Percy, but Amanda is impatiently awaiting 
you in the library." 

Peecy. "Yes, I will go now, but I shall return shortly. You will 
be here?" (The last directed at Lucile.) 

Lucile. "Yes." 

Percy. "And I am going to tell your mother." 

Winnowing — 29 



Lucius. "Certainly." 

Captain. "I have my back turned; you can kiss her and go along." 

Percy. "Thanks, Captain." (Slipping his arm around Lucile, kisses 
her, whispers.) "Sweetheart." (Exit Percy.) 

Captain (with his back still turned to Lucile). "All over? May 1 
look?" 

Lucius (still looking after Percy). "You are a humbug. (Turning 
to him.) "But come and sit down here by me." (They take seats.) 

Captain. "Now, tell me, how did you manage it?" 

Lucile. "Manage what?" . 

Captain. "To make Percy propose?" 

Lucile. "Oh, he didn't require much urging." 

(Malinda appears at the oj>en door with umbrella in hand. To the 
butler in the hall.) 

Malinda. "Here, Robert, take this umbrella and leave it on the out- 
side; it's wet an' I can't pack it in here. Good-day." (Shaking her skirts 
as she enters. Lucile goes forward and kisses her." 

Captain. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones? Is it raining?" 

Malinda. "Well, it wus, but it's deceased now. My, what a time I'v 
had in gitten here. I'v stood, on the corner fur a haf hour watchin' thim 
cars go pro an' con befor th' right one come 'long. I could'r walked, but 
the streets air perfect lullabies." 

Lucile. "How is Uncle Billy? Still busy in the Legislature?" 

Malinda. 'Billy's pert 'nough, but thim asinine dooties of that Legis- 
later is too much for him. Why, he talks in his sleep 'bout bein' laid 
on the table, cau-cuss-in, a'journeying, an' all sich things." 

Captain. "Well, it will soon be over; I believe they are to adjourn 
in a few days." 

Malinda. "An' glad I am. We'll git out of that hotel an' back to 
home, where we'll know what we're eatin'. I'd rut her be out feedin' my 
turkeys an' chickens any day 'stid of settin' up in Sunday close an' hearin' 
people talk 'bout people what I don't know nothin' 'bout. I'v got 'nough 
hotel to do me the rest of my days. Lucile, how's Jeems K. ?" 

Lucile. "Father is just the same. You know there is little change in 
him from day to day, but here he comes now." (A negro man wheeling 
James in an invalid chair enters. James' face is blank and his eyes star- 
ing; he mumbles incoherently and fumbles aimlessly with his hands. Lucile 
goes over to him and adjusts his cushions, arranges his collar, smooths 
his hair, etc. James looks up at her and begins to mumble and cry. Lucile 
reaches for a toy and gives it to him. He takes it and begins to play with 
it. She turns away with a deep sigh ) . 

Lucile. "How pitiful. If anybody had told me a year ago that I 
could go through with this I would not have believed it." 

Malinda. "You air young, Lucile, an' young folks can throw off 
trouble. I never thought the time would come when I could thank God 
that he had took Pa and Ma away from me, but I do. I thank him ever 
day. This would'er broke their dear old hearts. An' they died so happy 
an' proud of Jeems K. Jist to think it ain't no use to speak to him, he 
don'e'even know me." (She wipes her eyes.) 

James begins to cry again. Lucile goes to him. 

Lucile. "I wonder what he wants ? Get some water, Robert. Per- 
haps that is it." 

Robert. "He has had water, ma'am, jist before I brought him in. He's 
been powerful restless all day. I'd better wheel him; that quiets him 
some." 

Lucile. "It is about time for his nourishment. Take him in the 
dining room and try that, and if he is still restless let me know." 
Robert. "Yes, ma'am." (Exit Robert, rolling the chair.) 
Captain. "Lucile, I' will go and look after him." 
Lucile. "Thank you, Cousin William." (Exit the Captain.) 

30 — Winnowing 



Malixda (looking sorrowfully after them). "Lucile, I wish I could 
help you, but I don't know what to do." 

Lucile. "There is nothing you can do, dear. We simply have to 
guess at his wants, and Robert is good and faithful." 

Malinda. "Lucile, you shore air good to him." 

Lucile. "Aunt Lindy, I am simply doing my duty. It is a great 
sorrow to me that I cannot love father as I used to. I feel that I am so 
dreadfully wicked and hard-hearted, but when my respect died my love 
seemed to die with it. Today, even, when I have been so happy, at the 
thought of his double life, something seems to clutch me right here" 
(placing her hand over her heart), "and a feeling of oppression comes over 
me that is sickening and overwhelming and thus it is all the while." 

Malinda. "An' I reckon lots a' daughters would feel the same way, 
if they knowed their fathers. Of course it 'tain't no comfort; but this air a 
wicked world. An' men ain't held to account 'nough. I ain't got no pa- 
tience with this thing of there bein' one law for men an' somethin' different 
for women. God didn't turn Eve out of the Garden of Eden an' tell Adam 
he was excused. If there wus the same doctrines held 'bout men what 
goes wrong as we has for women, the men wouldn't be so keerless 'bout 
their care-«c£-tors." 

Lucile. "Yes, this thing of there being one moral standard for 
woman and another for man makes me sick." 

Malixda. "Honey, men ain't got no moral standin', it's all for the 
women folks. Why, them same men what spends their lives sinnin' agin 
women, is the most parsimonious when it comes to pickin' a wife. Nothin' 
won't do them but the most vurtuous of women, an', strange to say, the 
vurtuous women takes 'em." 

Lucile. "Aunt Lindy, I have a surprise for you." 

Malixda. "It'll take somethin' powerful oncommon to shake me up 
after all the curius an' strange things I'v saw an' hearn lately." 

Lucile. "I am going to be married." 

Malixda. "Good Lord! Who to?" 

Lucile. "Mr. Percy." 

"Malixda. "What! Percy Carroll? Well, I did think that was one 
spiritous friendship. Who would 'er thought that he was thinkin' of gittin' 
spliced to you all this time? Why. Lucile, he's too old for you. He is — " 
(Lucile throws her arms around her neck and kisses her.) 

Lucile. "No, he is not too old, either. And I love him. I love him. 
Oh, I love him dearly." 

Malixda. "Well, that's all what counts,. an' if you love him that way 
I reckon a few years don't make no difference. An' he is a good man, an 
you might go further an' do worser." 

Lucile. "If I looked the wide world over I could not find a man who 
so exactly suited my ideal. Why, Aunt Lindy, I do not believe he has a 
fault." 

Malixda. "Oh, go 'long with your foolishness; he's got faults, an' 
plenty uf 'em. You ain't huntin' fur no perfect man. fur if you wus to 
happen to run cross one he'd find this world a mighty lonesome place. An' 
I don't want you to be disapinted in your married life. Now, you lis'en 
to me. Don't you go an git married thinkin' that Percy Carroll is jist a 
little god. He's a man. An' when he sets down to eat, if the biscuits 
ain't hot, an' the coffee is cold an' weak, an' the meat is tough, if he 
swears a little don't you go off an' cry an' git the notion in your head that 
you'v married a brute. You jist remember you'v married a man, that's all. 
An' if he wants to read the newspaper in his shirtsleeves so as to be 
comfortable sometimes, even to smoke his old pipe in the house, don't you 
go an' raise a rumpus 'bout smellin' up the house, an' looking onstylish. 
You jist let him lone, an' air out when he's gone. But when he's to home 
you jist make him comfortable, an' feed him well, an' make yourself agree- 
able an' look pretty, an' he'll never find out that you ain't a angel; but 
if you go to sloppin' round the house an' naggin him 'bout little things an' 

Winnowing — 31 



fCB 21 191 C 



givin' him vituals what he can't eat, he may go loppin' off down the road 
after some other woman what ain't so vurtuous maybe, but is more agree- 
able, fur them's men's ways all over." 

Ltjcile (laughing). "Oh, Aunt Lindy, if all men are so material as 
that I shall see to it that we always have a good cook in the kitchen." 

Malinda. "Well, you'd better, fur I tell you the cook is the most 
fluent piece of furniture 'bout a man's home, but I'd better git to darnin' 
them stockin's fur you." 

Ltjcile. "What a dear you are. You will find a basket full, up in my 
room waiting for you." 

Malinda. "H'm. Who's goin' to darn Percy's socks, I'd like to know." 
Ltjcile. "Oh, I'm going to take some lessons from you. I'll be up 
there in a little while." 

Malinda. "I reckon after you'v took another lesson in love-makin' 
you'll be ready to larn somethin' useful." (Exit Malinda.) 

Lucile sits in pleasant reverie for a few moments, when she is aroused 
by Carroll . Arnold slipping quietly into the room. Carroll's hair is 
disheveled, his- eyes wild looking, his manner nervous and unnatural. 

Lucile ( startled ) . "Oh, you took me so by surprise that I actually 
jumped." (She laughs somewhat nervously.) 

Carroll (coming very close and peering into her face). "Hush. I 
do not want any one to know I am here. I have been waiting to find you 
alone." 

Lucile (frightened by his expression and manner, draws back). "Why 
did you want to see me alone? Is there anything I can do for you?" 

(Carroll still peering into her face, with a, wild, crazy expression in 
his eyes. Lucile, thoroughly frightened, tries to move away. He catches 
her violently by the wrist. ) 

Carroll. "Do not make a sound; if you do I shall have to kill you' 
at once. I tried to hate you, too, but I could not. You are innocent of any 
wrong, and you, too, have suffered. It would be cowardly in me to take my 
own life, and leave you here helpless and defenseless. I have been walking 
through hell, and little devils have been mocking me. Do you hear that? 
Bastard, bastard! My mother, oh God, my mother. But I struck the 
man dead who ruined her life. And now I am going to save you from 
her cruel fate. You know you told me who the man was; but for you I 
should not have known him. Ah, but- didn't he shrink and cower before 
me?" (He laughs wildly. Then draws a pistol.) "You must not be afraid 
to die; life is not worth the living." 

The Captain slips quietly into the room and up behind Carroll and 
grabs the pistol before he is aware of his presence. The Captain dis- 
charges the pistol in the air, then throws it from him and grabs Carroll, 
who is startled and lets go of Lucile, who reels back. Percy, the negro but- 
ler, Amanda and Malinda rush in from different directions. The butler to 
the aid of the Captain takes hold of Carroll, who is wildly gesticulating. 
Percy rushes to Lucile and takes her in his arms. 
Percy. "Oh, my God! Are you hurt?" 
Lucile clings hysterically to him. 
Lucile. "No." 

Amanda. "What is the matter ? Is Lucile hurt ?" 
Malinda. "What's happened ? Who shot that pistol ?" 
Captain. "Nobody is hurt; I shot the pistol to bring help. This boy 
is crazy. We must get him away from here." 

Carroll. "No, no. I will not go. Don't you see I must kill her, 
then myself?" (As the Captain, aided by the butler, takes him from the 
stage, Amanda and Malinda sink into chairs, nervous and frightened. Percy 
with his arms still about Lucile, whose head is on his breast.) 
Percy. "I thank God that you are safe, my darling." 



32 — Winnowing 



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